Late Devulapalli
Venkata Krishna Sastri *
Much do I struggle
To clear my throat
And give rein to my voice
Like you all;
Longing to wander
Far and wide
In the music of the spheres
And reach the ends of thought!
But of what avail?
Alas, the song I can hardly contain
Within my heart
Dries up in the trackless desert sand
Of sorrow with no end!
Under the burden
of sorrow and shame
This wretched life
bends and sinks
Into the bottomless
limbo of Hades!
My voice that has since, been stilled
Has all the gurgle
Of a mountain brook at rest;
But of what avail? - -
(English rendered by D. Anjaneyulu)
* This touching poem was written by Mahakavi Krishna Sastry when he lost his voice, just as Milton lost his sight! His voice
used to he as beautiful and pleasant as his pen. The translator himself, a
great writer, died!
- Ed.